


The Hero's End of War

by Doirly_No



Series: The Lesser Wars [6]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Action, D/s, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Post Ending, Reunion Party, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-05-12 03:37:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5651134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doirly_No/pseuds/Doirly_No
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of the games Shepard, Samara and Liara have entered into a unique relationship which they explored while at an asari resort known as the Azure Sky, however their vacation was cut short when Shepard mysteriously left.  Now Samara and Liara are tracking Shepard down as Shepard tracks down and destroys the last remaining remnants of Cerberus.  But first a quick look at how Shepard and Samara ended up together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The only things established about Shepard are that she is paragon and an infiltrator. I hope nothing else slips in, such as how she looks. I want to interfere with head cannons as little as possible. So, just picture your Shepard.
> 
> There are BDSM elements, but they are rather soft and contained in a loving relationship.
> 
> Readers have described the relationship between Shepard and Samara as adorable and sweet. Take that for what you will. And Liara isn't treated much different.
> 
> Hope you're entertained.

Samara didn't have a vivid memory of the first time she saw Commander Shepard that day on Illium when she was recruited to help stop the Collectors. Though she had little experience with humans, encountering one wasn't particularly noteworthy. All and all it was a rather routine mission that was barely worthy of record. It was only when she boarded the Normandy that things got interesting and she realized what a remarkable person she was in the company of, but even then she never would have guessed how much of an impact such a young creature would have on her life. Looking back she wished she had paid more attention, it would have made the story of their relationship so much more romantic. Their second meeting on Illium however made a more lasting impression.

After the defeat of the Reapers the weary matriarch attempted to return to her old way of life, but there was a pervasive, lingering doubt that tainted her every thought. The Justicars were all but gone, their ranks thinned in the war and its aftermath. The destruction of the monastery on Lesuss stole the purpose for many who followed the code and so they left the order. The massacre of the Ardat-Yakshi made Samara question her devotion as well, though not in the same way; she had already given her answer when Morinth died. It was the allure of reuniting with her last surviving daughter Falere that got her wondering about a change in path and the more time that past the more she leaned toward abandoning her oath to live in peace. The amount of sorrow and suffering in the post-war galaxy was overwhelming; she didn't know if there was anything she could do to help. It was as she was on the brink of collapse that she ran into her former-commander.

It was much the same as the first time; Samara was tracking down a criminal on Illium while Shepard was tracking her down, even getting the same person to assist with the hunt, but that was where the similarities ended. As she didn't encounter the lauded, peerless Commander determinedly caring out a vital mission, what she found was an aimless, tired woman reclining on a bench in the middle of a quaint park. Dressed in short pants that hung past the knee, surplus army boots and a plain, gray hoodie the marine vet looked nothing like the armored hero she had previously known. Originally she thought the outfit was a disguise until she found out later that was just the human's normal civilian attire. Once she was spotted though her friend perked right up; it was quite flattering to be honest.

Few pleasantries were exchanged as a slew of more pressing questions immediately flooded the matriarch's mind. There were conflicting reports on whether the Commander had died. Obviously she hadn't, but Samara was still curious how that was possible. Shepard wasn't sure, didn't have any clear memories between jumping into the Conduit and waking under a pile of rocks three days later. There was really nothing for her to share so they moved on to the next obvious topic of why she was there. If it was just a matter of catching up it would have to wait until after the Justicar's hunt for a slaver, who had been preying on refugees was complete. Immediately the woman offered to help, in fact she happened to have a tip from the Shadow Broker on where to find the scumbag.

The hunt was over quickly as the criminal didn't even know she was being tracked, so wasn't in hiding. When caught she immediately surrendered and was able to negotiate a deal with Samara. Basically, in exchange for not being executed on the spot she agreed to hand herself over to the police and give the Justicar any information she could on her business dealings as well as the locations of all the slaves she had sold. She had destroyed many lives, but not once had she ever hurt anyone. Not a single use of violence. It was hard to decide whether that made the villainous matron noble or just pathetic.

As soon as the rather mundane case was wrapped up Shepard immediately asked if the matriarch would like some help tracking down the other leads the slaver had provided. It was at that point Samara directly questioned why the woman was there. A clear answer wasn't forthcoming as it seemed even the former-marine didn't know for sure. She humored the almost incoherent human awhile and agreed to share a meal, considering everything the Commander did for the galaxy at large and her in particular it was the least she could do. Eventually she had to get back to her duty and when she mentioned it again there was an offer of assistance. She politely turned it down, her mission was a solo one, but to her surprise that response was not accepted. What followed was an argument that gave her flashbacks of conversations she had with her daughters when they were children. It was a weird situation that took a little too long to resolve, but finally they part ways. That separation was short lived.

Samara sifted through the procured data overnight and quickly set her sights on the volus who helped launder money stolen from the refugees-turned-slaves, as he resided only a few miles away. It was an obvious, predictable plan that she didn't give a second thought about. So when she showed up at the target's house the following morning and found Shepard sitting on the couch, the diminutive alien tied up in the corner she wasn't surprise her course of actions had been predicted, but that someone would bother doing it at all. Then for the second time in as many days she was forced to rebuff the strangely immature woman. She figured that would be the end of it, but just to be safe she decided to leave Illium behind. That didn't help.

A week later the Justicar again found the wayward woman on a bench on a space station this time, dressed the same as before, except the sweatshirt's hood was pulled up. For the life of her she could not figure out what was going on with Shepard following her. She didn't even humor the human and preemptively refused any sort of partnership, purposely being quite rude. That wasn't enough. Despite leaving no hint as to what she was doing the former-marine managed to track her down yet again on the nearby planet. Enough was enough and Samara directly confronted her stalker.

A short argument led to the matriarch harshly asking, "What is wrong with you?"

After a moment of silence Shepard replied earnestly, "I don't know. I don't feel right and all the doctors say is to get rest and live on a beach or something. I need friends not professionals."

For a long few minutes Samara stared at the human in quiet contemplation. There was nothing in the Code about such a situation; the first time she had noticed any fallibility in it. This woman had done so much for so many, including herself, and asked for so little in return, just like a true Justicar. There had to be something she could do. In the moment she wasn't sure what, but letting Shepard tag along for awhile would at least give her time to come up with a way to help. She finally agreed to the Commander's request which was immediately followed by a squeal and a one-sided hug. It was very strange.

The flashbacks of her time as a mother renewed as her now excited companion led her to a surprise at the station's docks. The rapid change in moods would usually make Samara suspect deceit, but she knew that wasn't the case here. Some form of PTSD was possible in which case a doctor would be in order, though the way the former-marine was acting didn't quite fit that diagnosis. Then again trauma most likely affected humans differently than asari. She thought it best to observe and assess before deciding on a course of action. At least Shepard didn't seem to be suffering and it was quite amusing to watch the great hero act like a teenage kid.

The grand surprise turned out to be a small, STG ship. The model was a generation out of date, which to the salarians was practically ancient, but it was still just a hair below state of the art. With the help of Major Kirrahe, Shepard had been able to procure the vessel from Sur'Kesh with the credits that she got from selling her apartments on the Citadel and Intai'sei. She then had just enough money left to refurbish the inside to make it feel less spartan and more homey. 

Samara asked, "Why go to such effort? Why not just live in one of those apartments?"

Shepard's odd response was, "Then they could find me."

"Who?"

"Everyone!" with an exaggerated flap of the arms.

"Do you fear for your safety?"

"Oh no, of course not, no one can hurt me. I know that."

Before the Justicar could react to the strange answer she was dragged through the airlock and the ship's tour began. She was first led to the cockpit where it was pointed out how two rock-hard, pilot seats had been replaced with one that was far more comfortable, the model a recommendation of Joker's. There was then some technobabble she didn't really understand; the infiltrator's expertise went beyond what was necessary for the job. Shepard was a dork at heart. From there, there was a quick explanation of the narrow, locker-lined hallway before they made it to the living area. It was pleasant and set up much like the Commander's cabin on the Normandy, though she had only been in it once so wasn't entirely sure what exactly was different. She was certain there wasn't a kitchen however.

Throughout the tour Shepard barely took a breath as she had something to say about everything and was more than willing to go into detail about all of it. Prattling on and on about couches and sinks was a bit out of character for her, from Samara's experience at least, but it wasn't as unusual as it seemed. This was the first space she had ever had that was truly hers. As a child she never got the chance to personalize a room to such an extent. She had even less freedom after joining the military. From there she lived in some nice places, but she never really had a say in how they looked. The cabin on the Normandy, her apartments on the Citadel and Intai'sei and even the barebones one she kept on Earth were all pre-furnished with no input from her. She really liked them and all, which is way she copied aspects from them, but still they were all someone else's property not her own. This ship was hers and no one else's.

The tour ended with the one room lower deck that was used by STG units as a staging area, though what purpose it would have to an apparently civilian Shepard was beyond Samara. The lockers above seemed to provide more than enough storage for a single person and none of the equipment or fixtures had any role outside of a military one so she wondered what her former-commander would do with it. She was given a few minutes to ponder the possibilities as her guide had finally seemed to run out of words. Maybe install a fish tank. She idly inspected a console, not noticing she was actually in an awkward silence until she turned back toward her suddenly fidgety friend.

Shepard mumbled, "What do you think?"

"It is a very nice ship."

"You really like it?"

"Yes."

"Enough to want to travel around in it?"

"Shepard, we have been over this..."

Before Samara could give her a thoroughly explained rejection again, the wayward woman cut in, "I know, I know; Justicar, work alone, the Code, yada-yada. But this is my ship, not yours, so you wouldn't own it, so you still wouldn't have any possessions. It'd be like the Normandy again where you're just a passenger, except you'd get to determine where to go. I'd just be helping you, whatever that means. If all you want is a chauffeur, that's fine, I'll stay on the ship. I'd like to help more than that, but I'll defer to you on everything."

"Why are you being so persistent?"

"I don't want to be alone, but I don't want to be around people who look up to me. I want to help people, but I don't want to do deal with everything that being a marine or spectre entails, like paperwork and dealing with assholes. And I just want to be a soldier again, just give me my orders and let me do the job. I don't want to give orders, I don't want that responsibility and I'm honestly not sure I could handle it at the moment anyway."

"Why me?"

"You're the only one I can think of whom fits all the criteria and I really like you, I think you're awesome and I respect you a lot." Then after a long breath Shepard deflated, adding, "I won't bother you anymore. I mean I have other options, good ones. Not as good as you though. Garrus was talking about maybe going back to Omega and doing his Archangel thing again. I'd call myself the Demon; Archangel and the Demon. Grunt wants to be the first krogan spectre. That doesn't seem realistic, but I could train him a bit. There's also Kasumi, she's been acting more like Robin Hood since the war and I think I could get her to go full do-gooder if I joined her. I might try Liara next though; I don't think she's doing anything evil or at least not too evil. I could help tone her down if she is, maybe..."

The human's rambling gave Samara enough time to consider her reply carefully and a little over half a minute after Shepard trailed off she said, "We can at least give traveling together a try."

For the second time that day the ancient Justicar was bombarded with a girlish squeal followed up quickly by a powerful hug that trapped her arms against her sides. If not for her armor she might have been injured. There had to be something seriously wrong with the former-commander; adults, let alone marines, don't act that way. As she was being affectionately crushed she swore to determine the human's problem before they parted ways again. She would give it as much time as was necessary. There was no need to rush since having Shepard at her side would only help her in her duties. Though she didn't yet realize it at that moment, it would also give her a renewed sense of purpose.

Samara ended up not leaving the ship, since neither of them had any further business on the station they decided to depart right away. They did not, however, have a destination in mind. With control of the flight plan resting on the Justicar's shoulders she reached out to her contacts, which now because of Shepard included the Shadow Broker, for a place in need of her assistance and with chaos reigning in much of the galaxy in the aftermath of the war finding such a place wasn't too difficult. She decided on a troubled system rather than a specific objective so she could go over living arrangements with her new roommate. Something she hadn't done in over seven-hundred years, back in her university days. She'd probably get along with Lidanya just fine today, but back then they could not have been any more opposite from one another; a rebellious youth with no plans for a future versus an honor roll student with designs for a military career. The stick-in-the-mud infuriated her on so many occasions, luckily that didn't seem like it would be the case with this companion.

An hour into the voyage the matriarch was proven wrong and a non-military use for the second deck was found, it would serve as her room. She needed nothing and a spartan space suited her just fine, although she did enjoy gazing at the stars from the observation deck on the Normandy. She only occasionally required sleep and whenever she did she would simply use the couch. Such accommodations were actually far nicer than she was used to. With the essentials set their journey began. 

As a sort of test run they broke up a small smuggling ring, nothing major and the perpetrators surrendered without resistance, but it let Samara know that Shepard really would follow her lead. Considering the level of skill the human possessed she felt no need to ease into things any further and their next mission involved dismantling a batarian pirate gang operating at the edge of asari territory. Again everything went smoothly, or at least as smoothly as fighting a gang of pirates can go, though it took them away from the ship for a few weeks. When they returned the former-commander offered to stow their gear, so the matriarch decided to make use of the shower and wash off the accumulated filth that her armor had trapped against her skin.

The original purpose of their bathroom was for decontamination, where the salarians put their toilet was a mystery best left unsolved, so there was no shower stall just a showerhead and a drain. There wasn't even a door to close the space off with. Privacy wasn't really an issue for Samara; she just worried what issues it would cause her companion. At such a young age people are so much more self-conscious about their bodies, or were they? Shepard was around thirty, but she couldn't remember what the equivalent for her people would be. Obviously thirty was old enough to be an adult for them, a young-adult perhaps? How long did humans go through puberty? The matriarch pondered as she stripped down and stepped under the water. The warm streams felt so good after so many days spent trekking and fighting.

For several minutes Samara stood there letting the water wash over her, her chin tilted up so her face was the first part of her to be embraced by the soothing spray. Then her head dipped to allow her tight shoulders a chance to be massaged by the gentle streams. Her scaled skin required little more than a quick rinse, but the shower was providing some therapy for the weary muscles beneath so she stayed longer than was needed. Eventually she did have to leave and slowly turned around, then even more slowly opened her eyes. To her surprise the first thing she saw was Shepard, clutching a stack of towels while staring at her with a vacant expression.

It took a second before the human reacted to the matriarch's movement, "Sorry, I didn't mean to... Sorry... I... Sorry."

Shepard dropped what she was holding and fled, leaving a momentarily confused Samara behind. It seemed like a complete overreaction to something that was bound to happen; the bathroom didn't have a door after all. The woman had done nothing wrong, but sure acted as if she had. Unless of course she thought she had just been caught peeping. The matriarch turned off the water then strolled over to fetch one of the dropped towels. Apparently it wasn't by chance that the former-marine's top two choices were both asari. Though whether she was fully conscious of what influenced her decision was up in the air. Perhaps some research into human puberty and how long it lasted was required. 

The brave and mighty hero spent the rest of the day avoiding the matriarch; much like Rila would after doing something wrong. Morinth on the other hand never hid, was never afraid of repercussions, with one exception. Immediately confronting Shepard didn't seem the most prudent course of action, but she had to do something so began by doing a little research. If she weren't so out of practice dealing with other people her tact would have been different. She looked through varying medical, biologically and psychological texts about humans as well as several on the differences between them and asari. It turned out puberty was definitely not the case and the erratic behavior didn't quite fit the symptoms of PTSD either, although it couldn't be ruled out either. Something had to be wrong; the woman in her company was not the same one she fought the Collectors alongside. Perhaps she was overanalyzing things and the Commander just needed a break from everything, including whatever facade that was necessary to lead soldiers into an apocalyptic war.

Things remained awkward for the next couple weeks, especially after the former-marine accidently walked in on the matriarch showering for a second time. Shepard's adolescent embarrassment was renewed and talking things through became nearly impossible. The woman wouldn't engage, just nod along and agree with everything Samara said, never adding anything to the conversation. Then by chance one morning while searching for tools to fix a ding in her armor she stumbled upon a box buried in the back of one of the larger lockers. Scribbled on the top were markings she didn't recognized, a quick scan with her omni-tool told her they were letters from one of Earth's dominant languages, though she couldn't find a translation for 'LNT'. It was a mystery she wouldn't learn the answer to for quite some time.

Inside the sealed, though not locked, box were an assortment of items she kind of recognized but not quite. Again Samara turned to her omni-tool and was a bit surprised to learn they were all sex toys. Perhaps the 'T' stood for toy? More specifically the toys were largely of the BDSM variety, an acronym she'd never heard of but the practices were quite universal. There were few fetishes, lifestyles and kinks that weren't popular amongst the asari. Gazing at the restraints Shepard's words flashed through her mind; "just give me my orders and let me do the job. I don't want to give orders, I don't want that responsibility". Shepard had been nothing but submissive since they officially joined forces. She doubted her former-commander had any crass intentions, if anything the embarrassed reactions to seeing her naked showed a certain naivety and innocence in the planning of this endeavor, but there may have been an underlying subconscious desire at play. 

Samara put the box back exactly how she had found it and went to meditate on what to do next. It turned out to be a long session that lasted until dinner time. She emerged from the lower deck to find Shepard preparing spaghetti and chicken-balls, which wasn't a misunderstanding on the alien's part, the woman used chicken to make meatballs for some unknown reason. Without a word she took a seat at the kitchen table and silently watched the amateur cook work, making the former-marine more and more self-conscious with each passing minute. She did nothing to alleviate the tension, just waited expectantly for her meal.

Once the food was ready, Shepard dished up two plates, sliding one to her companion before sitting down. She grabbed her fork and was ready to eat when Samara interrupted with a request for water. Request wasn't quite the right word; the matriarch's tone was more demanding than that though not forceful enough to be considered an order. It struck the right balance so that the human didn't really think about it she just filled a glass and passed it over. She sat again and again she was interrupted before she could get anywhere. The matriarch wanted a knife and she thought nothing of fetching one. Then a napkin, followed by a cushion then a second fork because the first had a speck of hardened crud on it. Not once did she complain or even pay what she was doing any mind, just obediently carried out what was asked of her. 

They had their meal in a comfortable silence. With the matriarch's attention focused elsewhere Shepard was able to relax and Samara was never bothered by quiet or much of anything else really. The Justicar ate more quickly than usual and left her plate behind to be cleared by her companion. There still wasn't a hint of dissent, so she decided to push further. Normally when she showered she removed her armor in the bathroom, partial for privacy's sake, but mostly for efficiency as it was a good time to rinse off her equipment. That evening however she chose to strip out of her distinctive red outfit in the middle of the den. She knew she was being watched, though that didn't mean she tried to make a show of it. Much like her plate she left everything behind for someone else to pick up.

Shepard watched slack jawed, a swirl of pasta hovering inches from her gaping mouth, as a nude goddess walked across her living room. Her brain overloaded and it didn't even occur to her to question what was happening or why it was happening. All the galactic hero could manage to do was stare and drool. It was the droplets of spittle hurdling her lower lip that knocked her from her stupor as she quickly sucked them back in. The blue mirage was gone and her ability to process thoughts recovered. That was when she noticed the spaghetti that had been on her fork slipped and fell into her lap. She picked the bit of food off her leg and plopped it back onto her plate, then with an annoyed grunt she popped up to her feet. She hoped to defeat the stain with a hot water assault before it could entrench itself in the fabric of her sweatpants.

Any attempt to halt the settling sauce was thwarted when the former-commander heard a call, "Shepard, I could use your assistance."

There was a long silence before Samara got a reply, "Uh, sure, what do you need?"

"Help with my back, if you would?"

Another quiet moment then a hesitant, "Okay."

The matriarch was keeping her back to the door while standing underneath the shower's spray and had to look back over her shoulder using just the barest sliver of the corner of her eye to watch her young friend shuffle into the room. Her gaze was not returned as Shepard attempted to look every which way but her way. Both accidental intrusions involved several moments of gawking before retreat, when invited however there was active avoidance. It was odd to see the great Commander so awkward and shy.

Samara gave her companion a minute or so, but eventually had to ask, "Will you help me with my back or not?"

Shepard's whole body jerked as if a bolt of electricity had hit her, which inadvertently caused her eyes to fall upon the wet, nude asari just a few yards away. "Like, over there? Should I come over to you?"

"That seems the best way to do it." 

"Uh yeah, makes sense," as the woman hooked her thumbs in the waist of her grey sweats.

Before the pants could get much beyond mid-hip Samara asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to get into the shower with you," saying it brought a smile to Shepard's lips and made her a little bolder. "To help with your back and whatever else you may need help with."

"No, you may keep your clothing on. I am the one bathing, not you."

A bit crushed the woman's fingers slipped from her waist, then after taking a few sulking steps forward asked, "Aren't you going to turn off the water?"

"I rather not," Samara replied as she reached back to hand her new attendant a bottle of soap.

"But what about my clothes?"

The asari did a quick study of the human's outfit and said, "You wash them with water, correct? I am sure they will be fine."

Shepard pouted, "I guess so."

"Good then," and Samara again faced the far wall, sliding a little forward to force her companion to step under the water.

There was a squeeze and a plop then two very strong hands began to soap up the matriarch's shoulders. Not a hint of resistance or even free will. Did Shepard not find the situation strange, at all? She didn't wonder why Samara needed help this time, but none of the previous times? She didn't even put up a fight to save her clothes; they were just some old sweatpants and a cheap t-shirt, but they still deserved a rebuttal at least. Instead she let them get soaked so she could wash her friend's back like it was a normal occurrence. She did show some life when her chore was nearly done though and tried to keep going lower even after reaching the base of the spine. She didn't make it to the goal. 

The matriarch took a step away and spun around in a single fluid motion, giving Shepard quite the view of her dripping body while she too couldn't resist flicking a glance down at the human's near transparent wet shirt before asking, "Do you find this normal?"

"They look bigger than average, but otherwise..."

"No, I mean," Samara touched the button to shut off the water. "I am nude, you are drenched and we are in the shower together. And your previous attempts at peeping..."

It was Shepard's turn to interrupt, "Those were accidental, I swear!"

"I believe you," the matriarch then found it necessary to cross her arms over her chest to keep her young companion's eyes from wandering down. "If you are looking for some sort of intimate relationship between the two of us it is out of the question."

Embarrassed, the human explained, "I know. That isn't why I wanted to join you, I swear. You're just so beautiful; it'll take a little time to get used to being around you. I'm sorry for making you feel uncomfortable."

"It takes far more than this to make me uncomfortable. I am more concerned about you."

"Oh, thanks, but I'm fine." Shepard stood there quietly for a minute waiting for a response, her increasingly noticeable nipples giving away she was beginning to get cold. "Should I go change now?"

"You understand we cannot have an intimate nor romantic relationship? No matter what feelings you may develop?"

Kind of rubbing it in, "Yeah, I get your point."

"Good, if you truly do understand that then I would like to offer you a choice on whether you stay or leave."

With a confused stare Shepard grunted, "Huh?"

"Either you go change your clothes or you stay here and help me finish showering." Knowing her statement would lead only to more questions, Samara preempted them, "You are obviously attracted to me which is the cause of quite a bit of tension and embarrassment for you. While I am sure your infatuation will fade and we will be able to live and work together without issue I doubt it will entirely disappear. It seems you want this ship to be your safe haven and being caused discomfort in it could be harmful."

"What are you proposing?"

"A way to release your tension and hopefully make it so you no longer feel embarrassment around me. I will be in charge, you will have to do as I say and not overstep your bounds."

"But, wouldn't what I think you're saying break the Justicar's Code?"

"That is why I must be in control. I will prevent any deviations. The Code dictates what I must do, not what you must do. Whatever sexual or emotional gratification you may receive is fine so long as I do not share it with you. I will of course be pleased to be helping you; just so long as I keep a proper distance it will be fine."

"Sexual gratification, but will we actually have sex?"

"No."

"Then what would we do?"

"To start, you would wash me."

"Well, I guess we could at least try that part out."

"Very well then, now strip and kneel."

There was a moment of hesitation before Shepard grabbed the lower hem of her shirt and peeled the wet garment over her head. She ignored the instinct to cover her breasts and instead immediately hooked her thumbs in her waistband, pulling both her sweats and underwear off together as she bent over. To save some modesty she sunk to her knees without straightening back up. Shoulders slouched, hands clutched in her lap she appeared to be having second thoughts. She couldn't even manage to raise her eyes from the spot of flooring directly in front of her. She could have used a minute to collect herself, but the matriarch thought it better not to dwell. The water was turned back on, eliciting a surprised yelp and jump from the huddling human. Then a bottle of soap landed by her knee and she looked up to see she was in the shadow of a goddess. Hormones overwhelmed nerves as lust overwhelmed doubt; she was already feeling a lot better.

Samara placed the arch of her right foot on the human's thigh, her folded arms lowering to beneath her bust rather than across it. She felt a slight shiver through the pad of her sole. Without delay Shepard squirted out a blob of soap and worked it into a lather before taking hold of a lithe, blue calf. Her leg was treated as if it were some irreplaceable work of art being polished for display in a museum. Seemingly wary of overstepping the boundaries that had yet to be finalized the active fingers didn't venture too close to her groin or hip, so every inch of skin below that was scrubbed more vigorously than it had ever been before. Her other limb got the same level of meticulous attention when she presented it for cleaning. It was odd being the subject of such worship; seemed the only just description of such treatment.

When no scale was left untouched the matriarch slid her foot back to the floor and waited for her attendant to make the next move. Heels a shoulder's width apart, toes turned out and arms folded she loomed like a marble statue, sculpted to honor a goddess of fertility or perhaps a conquering general. Shepard got another helping of soap and tentatively reached for Samara's hips, washing them both at the same time. When hands veered inward a near constant stream of glances were flicked up at her as if to okay every new scale traversed. She didn't dissuade the encroachment in the slightest so soon a calloused palm settled on her mons. Then in a bold act the other slipped between her legs, cupping her azure for a moment before slowly being extracted, a finger purposefully dragged along her cleft. Wisely the human didn't try to take a mile after being offered an inch and moved up to her abdomen. 

Apprehension faded from the former-marine's face, replaced by fascination and adoration. After delving between the alien's legs it was hard to believe there were any boundaries she could overstep above the waist. With the concerns of doing something wrong gone she was better able to absorb the sensations she was experiencing. Asari skin was so smooth, her fingers glided over it without a hint of friction slowing them down and the tiny scales gave it a lovely texture. There was little give to the battle-hardened warrior's flesh; under the veil of rugged blue was nothing but lean muscle. Just before her hands reached the matriarch's arms they fell away to allowing her to travel further north to the great bounty above. The next part required a better angle so Shepard rose to her feet.

Eye to eye Samara stated, "Soap."

"Right," in a flash she retrieved the pretense from the floor.

Shepard stood and was presented with a lithe arm, postponing her grab for glory. Still, tough to complain about the chance to fondle an asari, even if it was just an arm. After the entire limb was washed Samara raised it high so she could reach the underside, striking a pose that wouldn't be out of place on the cover of Fornax. Her sudsy hand ran from the lowest rib all the way up to the elbow and back a few times, which felt far more intimate and arousing than she would have guessed. Her superior then turned away from her and indicated with a motion to get the other side as well. For this one she started at the pit and worked her way outward, finishing when their palms met.

Knowing what would come next, Samara ordered, "Remain where you are while you reach around."

There was a foot of air between the pair, prompting Shepard to ask, "Maybe you should turn around then?"

The matriarch asked over her shoulder, "Would it be more enjoyable for you to be stared at while you fondle me?"

"Well, not really. That sounds like it'd be awkward."

"Then should I purposefully avoid eye contact while you grope my breasts?"

"That probably wouldn't be any better."

"Those would be the options if I turned around."

"Okay, never mind then."

"Very well, then you may begin."

After a silent second Shepard decided to try pressing her luck, "Can I at least get a little closer to you?"

Samara's head turned, but not enough to catch sight of the woman behind her, "Alright, though remember not to overstep your bounds."

Then it just slipped out, "Yes, ma'am."

Shepard re-lathered her hands and ditched the bottle since there were no parts of the body left to clean beyond the next pair. Biting her lower lip she slid half a step forward, putting the tips of her breasts into contact with fine, blue scales, and then cautiously reached around the matriarch's lithe frame. She hesitated for a moment to savor her own anticipation before wrapping her fingers around Samara's magnificent, maternal monuments. A shutter ran through her body as she gripped breasts with a perfect balance between firm and pliable, thanks in part to the hardiness of asari skin. Her goal of washing them was lost as her libido rose up to seize control of her brain. She gently massaged, squeezed and manipulated the pair of pillowy breasts for several lengthy minutes before tempting the sensitive nubs at their centers with feathering swipes and whispering scrapes. That proved to be a step over the line however.

Samara commented, "Your technique for washing nipples is quite inefficient."

"Gets the job done," the attendant replied in a husky whisper.

"Yes, well," the matriarch pushed the human's hands away. "I believe I have indulged you long enough. Finish your job so that I may go meditate."

Admittedly her brain wasn't working at peak capacity, but even if it were Shepard probably would have still had to ask, "What's left?"

Managing not to betray a hint of humor, the Justicar replied, "The space between my lower back and upper thighs."

The former-marine's eyes immediately dropped down to the tight, blue posterior below and sincerely asked, "How could I forget?"

The soap, she needed the soap. Shepard's gaze frantically fell to the floor to yet again locate the bottle she had prematurely discarded. In a flash she fetched it, squeezed out a blob and without a thought for the future tossed it. The shower would be done after one last lathering, but that didn't enter her brain, she just didn't want to be holding anything. As if she were trying to start a fire she rapidly rubbed her palms together to work up a thick lather, her eyes boring holes in the matriarch's flawless rear. Using more force than she intended she slapped a hand onto each blue cheek, getting a startled jump out of Samara who glared back. The woman's expression was embarrassed as well as apologetic which was enough to resolve the incident and she was allowed to continue groping the ancient, well-toned bum. She kind of wanted to give it another smack, but doubted that would go over well so settled for thoroughly kneading and mauling the perfect pair of pert mounds.

After letting the woman play with her buttocks for a bit too long Samara moved away, turned and said, "I feel quite clean now, thank you."

"So, we're done?" Shepard asked in a pitiful sort of way.

"Yes," the matriarch replied as she shut off the water and stepped out of the shower.

"Will we do this again?"

"Perhaps." Samara then noticed her companion wasn't following her and when she looked back was surprised to find the cause wasn't dumbfounded ogling as human eyes weren't glued to any part of her. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Shepard replied a little too quickly. "I just need to, uh, take care of something real quick."

Through a squint the Justicar began to look the former-marine up and down, tellingly the woman immediately tried to cover-up her intimate areas with squeezed thighs and a draped arm, so had to be told, "Stand up straight, shoulders square and feet apart."

The former-marine's ingrained training kicked in and she reflexively stood at ease with her hands clasped behind her back, "Yes, ma'am."

The impromptu, formal address again passed Samara's notice as her attention was on surveying the damp human's body or more specifically the parts that were stiff and engorged. "You are going to do that in here?"

Trying to play dumb, Shepard responded, "Do what?"

"Masturbate," the matriarch stated bluntly.

"Oh! I mean no. Pffft. No of course not, I'm just going to shower myself is all."

Mostly to herself Samara mumbled, "How could I not think of this?"

The dripping former-commander slouched forward as she asked, "Uh, think of what?"

"Back straight," the Justicar firmly ordered before continuing, "I wished to make you less frustrated, not more."

"Well, give me a few minutes and my frustration will be gone."

"So, you did intend to masturbate."

Shepard was reluctant to admit she had been caught, "No, I just find showers relaxing."

"I believe you," Samara said in the same tone she always used, yet still somehow sounded less than sincere.

For a moment the matriarch was lost in thought. She hadn't considered what would happen immediately after the shower or that the young woman would more than likely need a release; quite foolish in retrospect. She was so out of practice with such matters. Her eyes lazily wandered over Shepard's wet form, appreciating its strength and beauty in an almost abstract way, as if she were looking at a work of art. It was so oddly familiar in shape yet still strangely alien, especially the hair that apparently grew in more places than just the top of the head. Back to the issue at hand, there were two options she could see and it seemed only appropriate to allow her companion to choose which to take.

"Tell me Shepard, how far do you wish to take this?"

"What do you mean?"

Samara took a sliding step forward and pressed her palm against the soldier's abdomen, "How far do you wish to take this?" 

Instantly, "All the way!"

With a chuckle the Justicar reiterated, "We cannot be lovers."

"But we are friends, right?" a nervous doubt lingering in the question.

"Of course," almost to reinforce her statement Samara began to lightly rub the woman's belly.

"So, this will be a friends-with-benefits deal?"

"A what?"

"Friends who also have sex, but aren't really dating."

"Ah, asari do not have a term for that, it is too common a practice to require one." It was easy to lose track of one's own assumptions, "Physical intimacy can bond two people and lead them to greater comfort with one another. I am already quite comfortable around you, to the point I have had no qualms about you peeping at me in the shower."

Shepard quickly defended herself, "I wasn't peeping, it was an accident."

"In any case."

"Not in any case, I wasn't peeping."

"Hush," Samara said gently. "It doesn't matter. I just want you to know this is not about love, but friendship. I want you to be happy, comfortable and content and this seems like a way to help you with that."

"What has ordering me around and making me stand at attention had to do with me being happy and content and all?"

"I thought your submissive tendency..."

Shepard interrupted, "I do not have submissive tendency."

Samara's hand stilled and her brow rose, "You have been following every command I have given without question since I boarded this ship. What is that if not submissive?"

With little confidence the human tempted, "Respectful?"

"You did not show me such respect on the Normandy."

The matriarch left her friend to silently stew, face furrowed in thought for several minutes before finally asking, "So, does that mean you're going to keep ordering me around then?"

"Do you want me to?"

"I'm not sure," Shepard mumbled like a bashful child while looking the other way.

"Well, as you human say, we shall play it by ear, but as for now," Samara then pointed her fingertips downward. "Remember, you are to keep your back straight, shoulders square and hands clasped."

"Yes, ma'am."

A brief digression, "Are you going to keep calling me that?"

"Calling you what?"

"Never mind," the matriarch replied with a shake of the head.

Before the former-commander could ask what Samara was talking about a pair of blue fingers turned the corner to her crevice and all that came out of her mouth was a withering squeak. Then the dopiest of grins spread her cheeks. There was some initial hesitation as the matriarch explored the differences between human and asari physiology; the parts were reasonably similar, however the functions and reactions didn't quite match up. The clitoris was more sensitive, but several internal structures that were key erogenous zones for the long-lived race were missing. Shepard didn't notice nor care that she was being used like an anatomy dumb from the front of some science classroom. Really, anything could have gotten her off at that moment; she hadn't been able to find any 'private time' in weeks. The bathroom not having a door hadn't helped and the lack of knowledge on how long it took a justicar to meditate had made her too paranoid to try a little self-relief anywhere else.

Gradually the appendages inside her grew more assertive as the matriarch got a feel for the human sex. A nimble thumb narrowed in on her engorged clitoris as three deft fingers frolicked through her channel, stimulating her better than anyone she'd ever dated. Even centuries out of practice and having never been so intimate with her particular species Samara only needed a few minutes to master manipulating Shepard's vagina and make her quiver as none had before. The experience would not last for long however as she was quite pent up and needed little to push her over the edge. Her whole body seized for a moment before being racked by shivering tremors. Head dipping, spine curling, her formal posture collapsed in on itself, though even with her legs shaking she managed to stay standing without assistance.

After a moment of stillness Samara asked, "Is your frustration gone?"

Wearily Shepard replied, "Yes, ma'am."

"Good, I am glad." The matriarch then turned the water back on, knocking her groggy companion back in to full consciousness, but also to rinse off her hand. "Now I will leave you to shower."

Just as the old asari was passing through the bathroom's threshold she was asked, "When will we do this again?"

Samara turned and with a smile answered, "We will play it by ear."

It was a bit awkward at first as neither was quite sure when the former-commander would need help 'relieving frustration' or Samara would need help bathing. They didn't want it to be a nightly event, though still there had to be some sort of rhyme and reason to it so the woman wasn't always waiting for it. Once a week was too predictable and seemed too much like something an old married couple would do; 'sex night' as Shepard put it, which was bad, apparently. 

After a couple mundane missions breaking up drug rings run by harmless people who were a little too into their own product and a few sporadic fingerings in the bathroom the vigilante pair took on a far more difficult target, a notorious pirate gang. As they were stowing their gear afterward the Justicar offhandedly mentioned Shepard deserved a reward for a job well-done, who jokingly replied she already knew what she wanted. That exchange didn't sink in until they were sharing the shower later that night while Samara was cupping the human's quim. They locked eyes and for the first time the matriarch's manual ministrations were referred to as a reward. It also further reinforced the dominant/submissive dynamic between them which had gradually enveloped their entire relationship, to the point that the former-commander wanted to take the final step.

Samara was sipping some tea on the couch one day when a small package was place on the cushion beside her, causing her to ask, "What is this?"

Bashfully Shepard replied from the other end of the couch, "Open it."

Inside was an odd looking piece of jewelry, the matriarch repeated, "What is this?"

"A collar."

"A gift? I do not wear jewelry normally, but..."

Shepard quickly clarified, "It's for me to wear."

"Then why give it to me?"

The blushing woman slid a pre-prepared datapad over to the old asari. "This'll explain."

Samara rapidly read through the information while a patient though fidgety Shepard waited a few feet away, trying desperately to fight instinct and not curl into a ball, then a moment after putting the pad down she said, "Kneel here, by my feet."

"Yes, ma'am."

But before Shepard could slide off the couch the matriarch added, "First, remove your clothing."

Modesty gave Shepard pause, but only for a moment, in the next she was pulling her shirt over her head. She stood to shimmy out of her sweatpants then without hesitation, as if tearing off a band-aid she quickly pulled down her briefs and followed the yanking motion through to the floor. She slid over to kneel before the wise, old alien who was still sitting comfortably on the couch. Nerves kept her from raising her gaze above the crossed knees immediately in front of her face. She had never felt quite so vulnerable. Her heart jumped into her throat when she heard the faint sound of leather rubbing against metal as the buckle was opened, a palpitation later a strip of black descended through her vision and then she felt the collar wrap around her neck. Her nerves settled slightly, but what put her mind and spirit truly at ease was when blue arms enclosed her and an ancient cheek touched down on the top of her head.

The matriarch gently whispered, "Do not worry; I will take care of you."

"Justicar Samara," the nasally voice on the intercom tore the mediating asari from her memory. "Your presence is requested on the bridge."

The glow left the Justicar's eyes and she responded, "On my way."

After a short elevator trip the seasoned warrior arrived on the bridge of the salarian military's latest reconnaissance vessel. It was still in the testing phase and running mock missions. A few calls, including one to an old friend, and the invoking of Shepard's name had gotten the fledging ship diverted from chasing drones to searching systems. In no small part due to General Kirrahe's volunteering to take command of the ship and offering whatever insights he could into improving its performance. Such highly ranked officers never were involved at such an early stage of a craft's development so the opportunity for the engineers was a hard one to pass up.

Samara only got a few steps through the door before Liara approached, saying, "One of the probes detected the detonation of a nuclear weapon on the second planet from the star."

"You are sure it is her?"

"There is no other possibility."

"Then set course for the planet so we may retrieve our wayward companion," Samara made sure to mind her word choice in the presence of unfamiliar company.

Liara added wearing a wicked grin, "And punish her for what she put us through."

With a thin smile the matriarch replied, "I will show you the proper technique when the time comes, but until then we must remain focused."

"By the Goddess, I hate her so much sometimes."

"For once, I must agree with you on that."


	2. The End

A red light pulsed in the elevator as it rose from the depths of a planet so insignificant no one had bothered to name it, it's only claim to fame was being the final refuge of the criminal organization known as Cerberus. The subterranean, clandestine base was on full alert after being rocked by a massive explosion from above. No significant damage had been sustained to any of the major systems as everything that could be was kept underground, so only the arrays and sensors on the surface were harmed. Communications were being hampered as well as many smaller devices; hallmarks of an EMP and by extension a nuclear weapon, but that could not yet be confirmed. People were being sent up to assess the situation, including the two assault troopers and one combat engineer heading to an auxiliary entrance used mainly by maintenance personal to service a sat-dish that was no longer there.

The door of the cylindrical, surface-level structure opened to a hellish wasteland that just a few minutes before was a dense, primordial forest. The only remnants left of the burgeoning ecosystem were the flattened and burning trunks of plants too large to vaporize. A hazy veil of smoke and kicked-up dust hung heavy in the air, making it impossible to see beyond a hundred yards. The two Cerberus assault troopers stepped out into the scorched landscape, each taking a step in opposite directions to maximize their search radius while the engineer made a couple last minute adjustments to his equipment. Then from out of the fog came a shot. A blazing slug tore between the two soldiers outside, into the bunker and right over the kneeling technician's head. It wasn't a miss however. The M-920 Cain's round created an explosion powerful enough that the thick, metal walls of the structure bowed out slightly and the men outside were dismembered by the wave of pressure and fire that blasted out through the open portal.

The Cerberus troops hundreds of feet directly below the suddenly hollowed out bunker felt the floor tremble then heard a piercing screech lash out from the elevator as the car plummeted. The horrid sound grew louder and louder until it ended with a resonating boom on the other side of a thick metal door that was barely able to contain the impact of the lift hitting the bottom of the shaft. Still not exactly sure what was going on a few engineers took the lead investigating what had just happened and inched their way forward, the soldiers behind them reflexively raised weapons. One went to a control panel to run a scan. Detecting toxic gas he signaled everyone to put on their helmets before opening the hatch.

Thick, black smoke poured out when the elevator doors separated, enveloping the trio of engineers who had stepped forward. The other dozen soldiers completely lost sight of their comrades. Suddenly the fog seemed to turn into a storm cloud as intermittent flashes of light illuminated various sections of it for a minute before an actual bolt of lightning blazed out. The ribbon of electricity struck a centurion, knocking him off his feet then arced to the trooper beside him. There was no time to react as a second later a barrage of white-hot plasma began indiscriminately torching everything. Men would survive a direct hit only to be killed by the next that had leapt from someone else's instantly charred corpse. In the chaos no one was able to get off a decent shot at the adversary they never even saw.

Alarms began to blare as the Cerberus forces finally realized they were under attack and put the base into full alert. Checking the internal sensors they could only find the life readings of one intruder. Perhaps it was a scout with a damaged cloak or maybe the sole survivor of a confrontation with their people. There were no other signs of movement in the area so it couldn't have been the main attack force. Whatever the case they'd find out soon enough, a squad was dispatched to capture the interloper for interrogation and the focus shifted to finding a way to locate the bulk of their unknown enemy.

One operator was left to continue monitoring the situation and direct the security detail to the lone intruder, who surprisingly seemed undaunted by the loss of their unit and was pressing on into the corridor. Not much information could be gleaned from the orange blip moving around the map on his screen besides its speed which indicated whoever it was they weren't injured; although they didn't seem to be in too much of a hurry either. The intel was passed on to the five blue blips he knew were his guys. On his board he watched his blips close on the unidentified one. When they all reached the same hallway he was informed contact had been made, then four seconds later the comm line went dead and his blips disappeared. After making several attempts to reestablish contact he followed standard procedure and summoned a drone to investigate. The little robot only captured a single image before it too vanished; that of a fully armored soldier, a giant pack strapped to their back and an 'N7' logo emblazoned on their chest.

A minute later every speaker in the base sounded, "Alert! Alert! Intruder has been identified as Commander Shepard! All personnel to battle stations! All efforts must be taken to eliminate the threat!"

The deliberate pace of the enemy strolling through their headquarters allowed Cerberus to move several combat groups into position. Assault troopers lined the next corridor using doorways for cover as guardians hunkered down with their shields at the far end with a couple nemeses behind them and engineers scrambled to deploy turrets. A formidable defense, swept away by an orb of chaos with a pitch-black core. A gravitational singularity raced down the hallway, pulling men out of cover as it went, until it detonated amidst the large concentration of soldiers in the rear. A second was unleashed to neutralize the grunts who had felt the effects only in passing. The next embattlement fell the same way, with a couple blasts from an M-490 Blackstorm, but that used up the last of the weapon's ammunition so it was discarded like the Arc Projector moments ago and the M-920 Cain up on the surface.

The defenders decided to fall back and put up a more concerted effort in the nearby warehouse where they could bring heavier weaponry to bear, like the atlas. Cerberus already had a pair of phantoms in the area though and sent them in to intercept the intruder at a corridor junction. The invisible warriors arrived just as the N7 marine was passing through the crossway. They silently charged from either side with their blades drawn, completely undetectable. The one on the right neared striking distance first and was confident she would be the hero to slay the evil Commander. Then when she was a hair short of being in range the dark figure pointed an oddly shaped gun directly at her and fired at pointblank range. She was frozen in place; her charging companion was caught off guard as well and after being side stepped was also hit with an M-622 Avalanche blast. The villain moved on, leaving a grenade behind to finish off the immobilized, would-be assassins.

Not far away a sizable portion of the Cerberus forces was mustering in a mostly empty warehouse, repositioning crates to use as cover and training their sights on the elevated entryway. The door was set a third of the way up the wall with a small platform underneath and twin sets of stairs leading up to it. Six person squads were stationed to either side of the entrance, ready to shred the next soul to step through it with a crossfire of burning slugs. The leadership was more than willing to risk their own people getting shot if it meant neutralizing the intruder. When alerted that the enemy was nearing, the centurions commanding the two groups each took out a grenade. Using nods to sync up their actions they pulled the pins in unison then began to toss them down the corridor together. Just as their hands reached around the corner a frigid blast lashed out, repulsing them and instantly freezing the explosives to their palms. Before they could recover the bombs went off incapacitating the soldiers, some temporarily while others permanently.

The majority of troopers were left unfazed, but the elevated location of the door made it impossible for them to shoot down the hall and they had to wait until their adversary stepped into view to open fire. They were ready for the highly-skilled infiltrator's cloak as well, having several sensors that didn't rely on light pointed at the warehouse's entryway. It was odd the intruder had yet to turn invisible during the assault. What they weren't ready for was a salvo of miniature, homing missiles. The barrage from the M-560 Hydra launcher tore through Cerberus's ranks, neutralizing every soldier in range. Several of those in the rear were left untouched, but weren't in position to make an immediate counterattack.

One of the soldiers knocked unconscious by their commander's grenade was awoken by a mechanical whine. His eyes cleared just in time to watch the rotating barrels of the Geth Spitfire pointed right at him rev up to max an instant before it unleashed a torrent of plasma projectiles. A quick sweep with the heavy weapon neutralized any other survivors then it was turned toward the still functioning atlas across the room. A stream of blue bolts immediately honed in on the mech's canopy, obscuring the pilot's view until the armor failed and the shots penetrated the cockpit. The man inside was absolutely shredded. The other defenders, not caring one iota about their comrade, used his death as the distraction they needed to move in. One of the squads on the left presumed too much and rushed forward without concern for cover. They were cut down as the humanoid tank behind them made its final death throes with a fiery explosion.

No thought seemed to be given to ammo conservation as the N7 infiltrator shot at anything that passed through her field of vision. With uncanny accuracy she picked off several Cerberus soldiers, only needing the barest of slivers to be exposed in order to score a fatal hit, forcing them to keep their heads down. Even those who could cloak weren't safe, they were hit same as the others. The loses didn't matter however, a war of attrition would go in the defender's favor. They just had to wait for the Spitfire to run dry, which would give them the opening they would need to attack. Then out of nowhere three tightly packed assault troopers and their centurion leader exploded. A guardian tried to peek out to assess the situation but a volley of plasma tore his head off. Only those watching through surveillance cameras could see what was happening; the Commander was wielding not only the alien minigun but an M-100 Grenade Launcher as well, as if the heavy weapons were mere pistols. Shepard may have been amazing, but that was downright inhuman.

As the battle raged deep in the bowels of the military instillation two new combatants entered the arena. Encased in biotic energy a pair of warriors descended the devastated elevator shaft the Command had left behind. Nearing the bottom the younger of the two dropped a small, surveillance device to check for opposition. There was none, but they remained cautious as they dissipated the mass effect fields they were using to control their fall and gently touched down in the remains of a warzone. The walls were scorched with burns, the floor was littered with bodies and in the distance they could hear the unmistakable sound of gunfire. Normally those would be bad things, signs of danger that should be fled from, but not to the two asari. To them they were a warm welcome that eased their minds, at least a little bit.

"Those shots don't sound nearby," the maiden mentioned.

"Yes, we best hurry. Focus your barrier on the rear, I shall cover the front and we will run for it. Ignore opponents. If any chase us we will lead them to Shepard and the three of us will fight them together," the Justicar ordered, already breaking into a sprint.

Catching up to the matriarch Liara replied without thinking, "Yes, ma'am."

That put a thin grin on Samara's lips.

The Commander's path, now also littered with a Geth Spitfire, was leading straight to the very heart of the base, the command center; a massive, three story tall, circular room the size of a small stadium with a monolithic, support pillar at its locus. At its height hundreds of Cerberus personnel manned the numerous stations, cubicles and monitors, but after the war ended only a fraction of that were left and none of them were primarily trained for such work. All but the most zealous and deeply indoctrinated of the organization were left and they were all soldiers. The augmentation process was seen as a waste to use on noncombatants, perhaps if their mission had been a success they would have expanded the program. As such, every person in the compound was a fighter ready to lay down their life with reckless abandon if ordered to and every one of them was being called to make a last stand. Only one side would ever leave that place; Shepard's dead body would be a trophy so great that surely their leader, the Illusive Man would return to them and bring back the words.

With reinforcements still arriving, the defenders began hearing low thuds coming from the entrance they knew the intruder would be coming through. They grew louder and louder, tremors vibrating the flooring, until with a final violent boom the door exploded in a ball of fire and smoke. Before the twisted hunk of metal blown from its frame could land a ray of light lashed out from the black cloud it left behind. The particle beam from the collector weapon cut the hatch in half as it swept the room. A swath of soldiers was instantly decapitated. The others were ready to counter attack though and three atlas mechs launched a volley of rockets, which were all shot out of the air before getting anywhere near their target, causing several friendly-fire causalities when they detonated directly over their own troops. 

There was a momentary stillness as observations were made and thoughts gathered, then without an order needing to be given a tsunami of slugs was unleashed. Dozens of guns and cannons sent an unbroken stream of fire into the enemy position, destroying the hallway, walls, floor and everything else within thirty feet of the target. Within seconds a chain of explosions heralded the destruction of the Collector Particle Beam's core and M-100 Grenade Launcher's remaining ammunition. That wasn't enough to end the attack however and most Cerberus soldiers kept shooting until they ran out of rounds; the torrent gradually tapering off due to variations in clip capacities and fire rates.

The squad at the far left of the line, hugged right up against the wall, was mostly out of ammo besides the centurion with a semi-automatic rifle which was the slowest to drain. They were the closest group to the hallway, but hadn't noticed that just before opening fire the lingering smoke from the initial blast swirled and whipped as an invisible body passed through it. Nor did any of them notice the engineer just behind them was having his throat sliced until they heard the body hit the ground. It was too late to do anything at that point though, the infiltrator armed with the monomolecular sword confiscated from the phantom on Azure Sky was already charging. A few slashes and a stab later they were all dead. It was only then that someone else finally saw what was going on, but it was too late, the Commander was re-cloaking.

Half way across the base the diminishing rate of gunshots was an ominous sign. The pair of sprinting asari tried to pick up their pace, but they could go no faster. In their worry they temporarily lost focus, no small thing for either of them, and missed a turn. It was only after seeing no signs of destruction for several minutes that they noticed their mistake and doubled back. Oddly, their hope bolstered when a series of booms rocked the walls around them and floor beneath their feet. After what seemed like an arduous distance they finally saw a raging firefight at the end of the hall. They stormed into the battle, announcing their entrance with a biotic barrage that caught everyone off guard, including the Commander who was taking cover behind a disabled atlas. She lifted her head and then a nemesis put a slug between her eyes.

Shepard's head flung back and body went limp as she collapsed to the ground, blood and smoke seeping from the hole punched through her visor. There was a moment of shocked silence while an event most doubted possible played out before them; the mighty Commander felled in battle and lying motionless on the floor. The silence was shattered by a piercing wail not heard since the last Reaper-perverted banshee was put down. Four-hundred years of pain and loss boiled over with a deafening cry as Samara's restraint shattered. Her daughters, her bondmate, all those she failed to save and now the woman who had brought joy back to her life; all taken from her. Everything gets taken from her. No amount of discipline or training could contain her anguish and rage. Liara was struck dumb, unable to accept what had just happened; leaving the maiden susceptible to her elder's influence and that which made a matriarch truly frightening.

Eons ago before the asari's ancestors became sapient they lived in great hives as super-organisms with the longest-lived individual acting as the nexus of a shared, low-level intelligence. In times of distress this queen would exert control and direct the entire group as one. Evolution into individuals and higher-beings made such grand scale joinings all but impossible, they had to settle for the more intimate version of the act that they had come to know. It could still be done though, amongst those who had achieved an undying connection to one another. It was what many matriarchs and their followers aspired to achieve. It was also possible between lovers, family and bondmates, especially when their emotions and thoughts fell into complete alignment. And there were few things better for uniting two souls than shared pain and hatred.

Samara's eyes exploded like the supernova of a binary star only to collapse into inescapable black holes an instant later, instinctually pulling Liara into her orbit and creating a joining so absolute that the maiden seemed to become an extension of her own body. The abilities and knowledge of one became the abilities and knowledge of both. The light fought back and intermittent rays would manage to create cracks in the void that would inevitably seal back up almost as fast as they opened. Nothing else made any semblance of containing her biotics; a violet corona erupted from her body and she slowly lifted off the ground. 

The newly born goddess of vengeance turned her wrathful gaze to Shepard's killer. The metamorphosis of the asari gave the nemesis enough time to line up a shot and didn't hesitate to take it. The slug didn't get anywhere near its target however, harmlessly disintegrating as it passed through the matriarch's biotic barrier like a piece of space junk in a planet's atmosphere. With a gesture of the hand Samara wrenched the rifle from the sniper's grasp then tore the augmented soldier out from cover to float helplessly for a moment before filling the air with a cacophony of cracks. Starting at the tips of the fingers and toes she worked her way inward, breaking every bone in the human's body. Each limb snapped twice then was bent the wrong way. After shattering the pelvis she worked her way up the spine, obliterating each vertebra and when the time came every rib, until she reached the neck which she twisted one hundred and eighty degrees.

Samara's wrath took but a modicum of power so the majority of it was siphoned into Liara, who suddenly found herself with abilities she never had before. Upon seeing a volley of missiles heading her companion's way the maiden used a biotic charge that nearly broke the sound barrier to intercept, throwing every piece of office equipment from her path. She came to a sudden, explosive stop that sent out a fan of shockwaves in front of her, destroying the incoming barrage in one fell swoop. Before the cascade of impacts ceased she created a huge singularity which sucked up several Cerberus soldiers. The troopers were only trapped the few seconds it took the first attack to catch up. The two mass effect fields collided in a massive detonation that eliminated over a dozen others.

Out of the maelstrom of smoke and fire came another flurry of missiles that would have sailed over the asaris' heads, hit the ceiling and caused a cave-in, burying the pair in several tons of rock. The rockets barely made it halfway across the command center before being stopped by a string of stasis fields, turned ninety degrees in either direction and then released, taking out several more squads. Even though the volley was repulsed it still provided a distraction that the last half dozen phantoms moved in to exploit. The six invisible, cyborg ninjas rushed the ground bound maiden at full speed from both sides. Several yards out, they passed through the outer corona of biotic energy radiating from the two aliens without a thought. It seemed like the emanations they'd seen a hundred times, whenever mass effect fields were being manipulated; the Cerberus soldiers were wrong. 

The matriarch and maiden's joined minds were able to detect and process more information than they could ever individually, including disturbances in the mass effect fields they were creating around them. Nothing entered a web without the spider knowing. Liara spun around and used a biotic throw to fire one of the cloaked assailants like a bullet several hundred feet into the far wall. The second she flung into a catwalk, followed by one being hurled up into the ceiling, another was blasted back into the fifth so that both crashed through a bank of computers, before finally the last surviving phantom was violently lashed and then launched at an atlas. The impact finished off the Cerberus soldier, but wasn't enough to damage the canopy. Not that it mattered, because by that time Samara was done with Shepard's killer and looking for a new target.

Levitating high in the air, tendrils of energy cascading off her, eyes chaotic pools of nothingness and light Samara looked every bit the goddess her lost love imagined her to be. Though, Shepard would have picked her to be the personification of beauty, desire or fertility; not the deity of vengeance, anguish and hate lording over a battlefield rife with death and destruction. Wherever the Justicar pointed damnation followed. Metal, circuits, bones and flesh warped, ripping them apart with savage proficiency. One atlas after another crumbled and fell, their cannons impotently failing to so much as scratch the rampaging asari. Once every mech was on its knees the matriarch unleashed a maleficent flare that vaporized the target it struck directly then set off a cascade of detonations that consumed every other war machine as well as any other soul within a hundred feet. And that was the end of Cerberus.

A few stragglers were left, so deeply indoctrinated that they wouldn't consider surrender no matter how hopeless the odds. They were brushed away easily as even hiding didn't seem like an option. Flares rained down from the sky above and shockwaves erupted from the earth below. Any hint of movement was eradicated with overwhelming force as the asari pair swept the room clean until the only living souls within it were themselves. Finally, with the heat of battle cooling their rage began to subsided, giving way to far worst emotions; sorrow, hurt and despair. Samara collapsed, surrounded by mangled bodies and burning debris, for the first time in centuries tears scarred her cheeks. In her grief the daughter and lover she still had faded from her mind, she could only think of those she had lost. Like on Lesuss she reached for her pistol, but before she could draw it she heard a call.

"Samara," Liara's shaking voice barely managed to lift above the din of the flames. "Look."

The matriarch turned to where the maiden was looking. Shepard was sitting up, legs wide and stretched, head drooped. Like an old doll that had been left in the back of a closet for far too long. She remembered; the light was blue. At the end of the galaxy she met a boy who said he could end the war, but it was up to her to decide how. The first of three options would have destroyed her enemy, along with a close friend and an innocent race. She would not fight genocide with more genocide. The second was to unite organic and synthetic beings into a new form of life so the two would better understand each other. Perhaps that would have been the best solution, the most peaceful and enlightened, but it also would have let the Reapers off the hook. The Reapers didn't deserve understanding or empathy; they deserved only punishment and suffering and only one choice allowed her to inflict that upon them. She was loath to admit it, but the Illusive Man was right, control was the only option. She would enslave the monsters, make them rebuild what they had destroyed and force them to serve those whom they had tried to wipe-out. 

In the infinitesimally small instant of time after she began to control the power of the Reapers but before she lost her mortality she prayed to the god she was about to become. She was afraid and wanted to go home, so back on Earth one of the capital ships created a new body for her consciousness to continue on in, with a few improvements. She would be younger and stronger. She wouldn't have to worry about diet or exercise to stay in shape. She'd have a bigger libido and wouldn't be so impervious to the advances of others; perhaps she'd even make a few of her own. She would be able to let go of stress, no longer tortured by nightmares, ulcers, migraines and chest pains; in fact she didn't want anything to be able to hurt her. She'd be her ideal form which turned out not to be perfect, her alterations threw her emotions a little out of whack and took away some of her maturity. Also messing up her mind were the memory blocks she put in place that prevented her from recalling her ascendance and gave her chance at living a normal life. A block that automatically crumbled when certain circumstances arose or something happened that defied logic, like surviving a bullet to the head.

Shepard had heard the battle raging, but it sounded like it was a hundred miles away on the other side of giant wall of cotton. Her vision was fuzzy too and for some reason she could only see a single spot of light, everything else was dark. The memory block was dumb, she was just starting to realize. Knowing what was happening to her would have made things easier and simply being aware that another version of her was off being god somewhere else in the galaxy didn't have the existential impact she would have thought. Maybe she wouldn't have lost control and gone on a mindless rampage after seeing that news report. Probably also would have recognized the connection she had to people who were indoctrinated and used that more effectively. She was able to free the mind of that phantom back on Azure Sky without even trying. She should have let Reaper Shepard have more input. It wasn't like she was in the best frame of mind to be making decisions at that moment; she was really tired and kind of dying. All of a sudden her vision expanded as her damaged helmet was removed and black was replaced with blue, her new favorite color. 

It took several minutes for the blue blobs in front of her to turn into familiar faces and the stream of muffled noise to clear enough for her to recognize it as two frantic voices trying to get her attention, then a few moments more before she said, "Hi."

Liara began weeping and collapsed on Shepard's chest, holding her as tightly as possible while babbling things like, "By the goddess... I was so scared... Thank you Athame... I hate you."

Meanwhile, tears drowning her eyes, the elder asari cradled her love's face, "Never again. Promise me you will never do anything like this ever again."

Still punch drunk and not sensing the gravity of the situation the human said, "I could only make that kind of promise to my wife."

The retired Justicar smiled warmly, her pain and sadness quickly fading, then gave the loopy woman a brief kiss and replied, "This is not going to be how you propose to me. You will have to try again later."

Glancing over at a burning corpse not ten feet away Shepard asked, "What, this not romantic enough for you?"

"It is not. I expect better of you." She squeezed the former Commander's cheeks to force eye contact and reaffirmed, "Clear?"

"Clear, Samara."


	3. The Epilogue

It was a picturesque day, a few wispy clouds drifted lazily across the sky and a cooling sea breeze tempered the blazing sun's heat into pleasant warmth. On the other side of a string of tall dunes from the ocean a little, blue girl ran with reckless abandon down a well traveled path. Hearing the waves crash just out of view and the feeling of grains between her toes egged her anticipation to its limit and her legs past theirs. She tripped, face-planting in the soft, white sand. Pushing up from the ground she tried to decide whether anything was hurt and by extension whether or not she should cry. Everything seemed fine and tears had no advantages at the moment, no chance of extra dessert or anything, so she got up ready to renew her sprint.

"Rila! Slow down!" the trailing matron called before turning around to her lagging bondmate, "Come on Sam, what's taking you?"

"I was just reading the side of the sunscreen bottle," Samantha Traynor and her oversized, floppy sunhat finally caught up. "It doesn't mention anything about asari or children. I don't know if this is suited for Rila. Maybe I should run to the store."

The worrywart's spouse and cured Ardat-Yakshi, Falere mentioned, "Asari don't require sunscreen."

"Are you sure?" the woman pulled off her big, round shades designed for a person three times her age to get a better look at the bottle she had pulled from one of the smaller bags hanging off her. "Maybe it'd be better to be safe than sorry."

"Scales don't burn, she'll be fine."

"But..." a squeeze of the shoulder and kind smile from her love finally got Sam to relent. "Alright fine, I guess I'll go put it back in the car."

"Don't you need some?" Adding some innuendo to her voice the matron continued, "And maybe some help putting it on?"

Which her bondmate completely missed, "No, I'm fine. I already took care of myself. Plus I have my hat."

"Well, if you're sure you don't want me rubbing a fine layer of oil over your glistening, sweaty body," Falere teased.

"Ohhh, I see." The two lovers closed the gap between them and Sam whispered, "Perhaps I could use a hand."

While the grown-ups flirted Rila continued to run ahead, not heeding her mother's advice and ended up tripping again. Asari children were some of the galaxy's most awkward creatures. Their heads grew a bit faster than the rest of them for the first decade of their lives which made them undeniably adorable, but also a bit top-heavy and liable to topple over. Again the little girl assessed whether or not to cry. She glanced over her shoulder to see her parents doing icky things and decided it better to get back to sprinting. After a hundred or so feet she reached a gap in the dunes where she made a hard right and finally she was at the beach. Stopping a moment to catch her breath she scanned the short stretch of privately owned sand and immediately spotted the reason she was so glad to be there strolling out from a gathering of tables, chairs, tarps and barbeques.

"Nana!" the girl happily hollered and restarted her sprint.

"Noodle-head!" Shepard just as happily replied, dropping to her knees with arms stretched wide.

Leaving a trail of giggles in her wake Rila ran at full speed across the beach, managing not to fall again until she could do it into her grandmother's awaiting embrace, "I missed you!"

"I missed you too," the woman clad in trunks and tank-top of clashing, garish, floral patterns replied as she lifted the little asari with a monstrous hug. "How are you doing?"

The girl was more interested in sharing something she knew than answering questions so instead asked, "You know what?" 

Shepard shifted her hold so they could look eye to eye, "No, what?"

Then Rila said, "Mama said we're going to be moving here soon."

"You are!?" the adult exaggerated her exclaim a bit too much. "That's great!"

"Yeah, she said..." Noodle-head, which only her nana was allowed to call her, trailed off when she noticed, "Grunt!"

Immediately the mini-asari wiggled her way out of the woman's strong grip so she could run over to the hulking krogan. He saw her coming and knelt down to accept her, though unlike his former-commander he didn't prepare for a hug, instead he put one set of knuckles on the sand. Rila came to a screeching halt then carefully put her two little, blue feet in his palm and smiling broadly he lifted her high into the air, or high for her at least. Arms stretched wide she kept her balance like a wirewalker which was much easier for her to do when she was standing still. He made one of his weird, Grunt chuckles; somehow they weren't as creepy when she was involved.

By then the girl's parents had caught up and Shepard greeted them with, "I'm way cooler than Grunt, right?"

Falere answered while leaning in to hug her mother-in-law, "Well, he can lift her up with one hand outstretched."

"So can I!" She gave her former subordinate a quick squeeze, sighed then moved on, "Anyway, the rugrat tells me I'll be getting some new neighbors. Things not work out on the Citadel?"

"No," the matron quietly replied. "I just couldn't find a job. Given my age employers thought I was overqualified for entry-level work, but I have no experience or even a proper education so I am actually under-qualified for basically everything. Plus, there is still a lot of prejudice against Ardat-Yakshi amongst asari. Most stopped reading my application once they saw my previous residence was Lesuss." 

"And I didn't get that promotion I wanted," Samantha added. "At least here we'll be close to family."

Shepard was overjoyed, though it came at the expense of her loved-ones' sorrow so she kept it to herself, "Well, you're in luck..."

A screeching cry interrupted them; they turned to see a whimpering Rila sitting in the sand clutching her head with a terrified Grunt looming over her, who said once everyone was looking his way, "She started it."

Many an eye rolled as the mother went to her daughter's aide, "Rila, what have I told you about head-butting?"

"Idiot," the two humans said in unison while shaking their heads at the large lummox; it wasn't the girl's first misguided head-butt and not once had it been his fault, yet every time he did something stupid afterwards to incriminate himself.

When a second krogan knelt down by the crying child Samantha asked, "Who's that?" 

Shepard's voice suddenly soured as she answered, "RynCol-Y'all, she's with Grunt."

"That's an odd name." With more consideration the petite woman added, "I think, I'm not sure what's odd for a krogan."

It was quickly and tersely clarified, "She's a DJ."

"Ah, so is there something wrong with being a DJ?"

"Besides it leading to the adoption of silly names and it not being an actual job? No."

Samantha gave her former-commander a sideward glance, "Why do you care about what she does for work?"

"I don't," Shepard lied, both to her friend and herself. "But what kind of job is that for a hundred year old woman?"

This was getting amusing, "Why does her age matter?"

"It doesn't." Her eyes remained glued to the giant, tattooed alien trying to help cheer-up her granddaughter. "It just shows a lack of maturity."

A couple chuckles slipped out as Traynor asked, "Why do you care?" 

Turning to the smaller woman Shepard squinted, "What're you getting at?"

"It just seems odd that someone who's married to an asari matriarch would get bent out of shape over a couple's age difference."

Her head started shaking several seconds before muttering, "No, that isn't even the same thing. She's like ten times older..."

"And Samara's like twenty times older than you."

"I am an adult, as is Samara and we are on a similar level of maturity."

"Not from what Liara and Samara tell me..."

"MEANWHILE!" Shepard preempted with a childish exclamation. "Grunt is a teenager who is still developing."

"I thought he did all his developing in that tube."

"Not the same thing."

Finally, Samantha gave her friend a condescending pat on the back, "It's okay, I understand. I know it's hard to watch them grow up, but at some point you have to let them out of the nest."

"Oh shut up."

"Well that's rude."

Not wanting to dwell on her relationship with Grunt any longer Shepard returned to, "Anyway, before we were interrupted I was about to tell you that I saw a 'for sale' sign in front of a house down the road."

Samantha was too kind of a person and let the subject go, a pleasantry that wouldn't have been extended if the roles were reversed, "Oh, we couldn't afford to live in an area like this. We're going to look for an apartment in the city." 

"That's too far away. I'll buy the house for you."

"We can't let you do that."

"Let me? Ha! Try and stop me."

Traynor's resistance continued, "But..."

"No buts. Look, I could give you a million reasons, but I only need one. Samara and Falere have a lot of missed time to make up for and a family they never dreamed possible. They deserve to enjoy it as much as possible."

After a silent few minutes Samantha admitted, "I guess you're right. I have to run it by Falere first though."

"Of course." With no doubt in her mind as to what the matron would say, Shepard threw an arm around her former-specialist and added, "It'll be good to have you around."

"Thanks." A smile sprung up, "Rila will be ecstatic. I'll never be able to repay you."

With a sly smirk Shepard replied, "Well, there is one thing you could do to repay me." 

It took barely a second for the younger woman to catch the meaning, "No way."

"Oh come on," she squeezed her friend's shoulder a little tighter.

"Never." This wasn't Shepard's first attempt.

"I'm going to buy you a house and you can't do this one thing for me."

Obviously over exaggerating Samantha stated, "I rather my daughter starve in the streets than call you Mom."

"But I'm your mother-in-law and I deserve proper respect, especially considering I'm buying you a house."

"No," said flatly while escaping the larger woman's grasp.

A counter offer, "Then how about Mum, it'll be adorable with your accent."

The daughter-in-law mumbled under her breath, "I hate you."

Shepard burst out laughing, literally clutching her sides, which drew Liara over from the barbeque to ask, "Samantha, so good to see you. What have you done to my bondmate?"

"Wait..." the woman having a hysteric fit quickly interjected, wanting to be the one to answer though she needed a moment to stop choking on her own spit before she could, "Sam hates me. She said, 'I hate you'."

Swallowing chuckles dying to burst forth, the maiden managed to keep a straight face as she patted her friend on the shoulder, "It's remarkable you lasted this long. It took me only a few months of prolonged exposure to get fed up with her. You are a stronger person than I."

"I never realized how rough you had it, poor thing," and the two embraced in mock sympathy.

"It's okay, Liara likes it rough," Shepard's laughter was renewed by her own joke, until she was smacked upside the head by a blue palm.

"Honestly, how do you live with her?"

"Sometimes, I just don't know."

"So, anyway," scanning around Samantha asked, "Who else is coming?"

"Well," Liara crossed her arms and thought for a moment. "Many will be here Sunday when the Normandy arrives, including Admiral Hackett. Jacob, Bryn and their little horde will get here in the next couple days. Tali should already be in a taxi on her way here by now. I'm actually not too sure about the Lawsons, they said they're coming, but I'm not sure when. Then there's Kelly, who's coming with Hawke and her group from the Azure Sky."

"The Azure Sky?"

Reinserting herself into the conversation, Shepard answered, "That place we sent you and Falere for your honeymoon."

Samantha blushed and mumbled, "Ah."

With a flail of the arm the former-commander left the digression, "And Zaeed's saggy, old ass could be here anytime. He lives less than twenty miles down the coast."

As was the custom, Liara largely ignored her bondmate's weird outburst and moved on to, "I know neither Wrex nor Bakara can make it. The last round of peace talks went nowhere and the Council's attempt to pay off the Blood Pack didn't go well either."

"Sorry, I haven't been keeping up with the news. A bit too wrapped up in my own life to pay attention. Why is the Council involved in Tuchanka's civil war? And why were they trying to pay off the Blood Pack?"

"Short answer is the krogan leadership are assholes, including Wrex, and Bakara is awesome," Shepard summarized before expanding, "Longer answer is that krogan don't know what to do with themselves now that the genophage is cured. A lot of clans want to seek revenge on the salarians, turians and everyone else for that matter, call themselves the Guardians of the Hallows. Most of the rest of the clans want to move on and join the galactic community, that's the faction led by Wrex. They however lack a catchy name."

Samantha interrupted to guess, "So the Council is backing Wrex and the Blood Pack joined the Guardians of the Hallows, so the Council tried to bribe the Blood Pack into switching sides."

Quickly the former-marine threw out an annoyed, "Nope. Don't forget, they're all assholes, including Wrex. He thinks the only way forward is with the krogan totally united and he's willing to nuke anyone who disagrees with him. Stubborn ass won't give an inch and will only accept complete capitulation from the, as he calls them, rebels. And given their history the krogan aren't too big on capitulating. Now here's where Bakara's awesomeness comes in. She tried to play mediator and couldn't get anywhere, so she led a sizable group of likeminded krogan off Tuchanka. Bakara's group is the one the Council is backing. They gave her and her followers refuge and tried to bribe the Blood Pack into simply leaving the war, because at this point the strategy is to let the two factions beat the shit out of each other until Bakara's group, backed by the Council, can return to Tuchanka and seize control. They believe getting the Blood Pack out of the war will speed things up."

The first question that come to Traynor's mind was, "So, did Grunt side with Bakara?"

"Yep," Shepard said as she glanced over to see the most terrifying teenager in history sitting in the sand helping her granddaughter with a sandcastle. "I'm so proud of him. He's matured into a fine young man."

"I would mention how maternal that statement sounded, but I won't, because I rather not get yelled at again," the daughter-in-law of the other two mentioned offhandedly.

"Good because I rather not have to do it again."

As the two adult humans stuck their tongues out at each other Liara finished answering the original question posed, "As for everyone else, they're already here."

Shepard asked, "Kasumi's here?"

Opening her omni-tool the maiden replied, "Silent alarms have been going off for the past twenty minutes. She seems to be in the den at the moment, though she has more than once tripped alarms on opposite sides of the house simultaneously, so I can't be sure."

"You're sure it's her?" she asked rhetorically.

"Only the rudimentary alarms that came with the house are being tripped, while the ones I had installed are going untouched," the security system on the luxurious, beachfront house was actually state-of-the-art; it just couldn't hold a candle to what the Shadow Broker was capable of deploying.

"So she's purposely setting them off."

"It looks like it." 

"Why can't she just use the doorbell?" Shepard turned to Samantha to add, "More than once I've come downstairs in the morning to find Kasumi asleep on our couch. No warning, just out of the blue, bam, there's Kasumi. Better go say hi before she gets bored and starts screwing around with our stuff. You should make the rounds anyway. Aethyta looks lonely, maybe start with her."

Liara quickly jumped in, "No, don't!"

Taken back by the sudden exclamation Traynor quietly inquired, "Why not?"

"My father is just... umm..."

The maiden's loving spouse helped, "Aethyta's looking to get laid."

"I have a bondmate."

"Threesome then."

"No, Falere would never do such a thing."

"Live a little, I'll babysit Rila for ya."

"Why are you trying to push this?"

"Better you two than Grunt and the DJ. I don't like how she's been eyeing them."

Samantha stated firmly, "Absolutely not."

"Fine, back to plan A then; Garrus. Hopefully he's enough to slake her lustful thirst."

"Must you put it like that?" Liara asked with a shaking head.

"How else should I put it? She is a T'Soni after all."

Narrowed eyes, the maiden calmly inquired, "What is that suppose to mean?"

"Like father like daughter. I mean, you have slept with four of the people at this party." There was an exchange of bashful glances between the two other women. "And that number is going to almost triple once Hawke and her crew gets here. You do get around, my dear."

To asari promiscuity held no stigma so Liara was in no way embarrassed by her sexual history, but the way Shepard said it really pissed her off for some reason, prompting her to threaten, "Well, I guess I won't be sleeping with anyone else for the next few weeks then."

"Samara and I will miss you." Having two spouses held its advantages. "Anyway, better go check on Kasumi, see you two later."

"I hate her so much," the maiden fumed.

It dawned on Samantha, "Ohhh that's why she was laughing."

Shepard giggled her way up the beach as Traynor was shot a death stare by her mother-in-law. The house wasn't too far away, just a five minute walk inland. On her way to the worn wooden path that would take her through the dunes she passed a shack that held a bathroom, a small changing area, storage, a fridge, two assault rifles and a secret entrance to the Shadow Broker's underground lair. A normal shed really. Behind it was another common sight for the woman leading an uncommon life; a trio of geth mobile platforms. Being a Reaper, or rather The Reaper, she was considered a god by several factions of the synthetic race. She tried to talk them out of it, but their logic was too strong and they somehow managed to trick her into admitting she was a god and she's been trying to recant that slip of the tongue ever since. So there were always at least a few of the metal guys around. The programs housed in these three were particularly interested in organic socializing and requested to attend the party with a five page letter that read like a college thesis, explaining what they hoped to accomplish, how they would go about it and what impact it would have on the rest of the collective. Liara had to give her a TL;DR.

The platforms didn't so much as flinched as Shepard neared and once she was close enough she noticed none of their head lights were on. She was pretty sure she had seen this behavior before and believed they were exchanging programs between platforms or something, perhaps they were recharging. In any case it was a normal thing for them so she didn't worry. No, she would save her worry for what was approaching her from the other end of the path. Strolling toward her was Jack with nearly every single tattoo on full display as the 'psychotic biotic' was wearing nothing but sunglasses and the most miniscule of white bikinis. The bottoms were so brief that it would take no imagination to guess all the con's grooming habits.

Once within earshot Shepard asked, "What is that?"

"What is what?" Jack honestly had no idea what the problem could be.

They came to a stop a few yards apart. "What are you wearing?"

Still had no clue what could possibly be wrong. "A bikini." 

"A bikini? Looks more like you tore up a napkin and attached it with some bits of strings."

"What the fuck do you care?"

"Rila's here."

"So? I got nothing she ain't seen before."

"You have plenty she hasn't seen before. She doesn't need to learn batarian death threats from your ribs or pejoratives for turian genitalia from your thigh."

"Well, looks like she's about to," then Jack made a show of stepping past the larger woman.

Shepard quickly grabbed her friend's arm. "Seriously though, you have to change."

The ex-con took a step back, crossed her arms and spat, "Fuck off."

"I can lend you something."

"Fuck off."

"There are some trunks and stuff in the shack."

"Fuck off."

"You won't even have to go back to the house."

"Fuck off."

"Stop telling me to fuck off!"

"I will once you fuck off."

"I'm not playing Jack," the former-marine crossed her arms, mirroring her half-naked friend.

"Neither am I, Shepard."

"You really don't want to test me Jack."

The ex-con raised faux shaking hands and taunted, "Oh no! I'm really scared now; the big, bad Commander Shepard's going to get me."

"No, not the big, bad Commander Shepard, she's reasonable and rationally. Right now I'm the big, bad Nana Shepard, who's completely unreasonable, utterly irrational and who will do crazy stupid things to protect her beloved granddaughter."

"You're kidding. You're doing this over a swimsuit."

"Completely unreasonable and utterly irrational."

Jack honestly couldn't tell if Shepard was joking, but it wasn't really worth the effort to find out and relented, "Trunks and a tank top. I'm not going to the beach wearing more clothes than I normally do."

"That's fine."

With that settled the tattooed belligerent headed for the ocean, tossing back over her shoulder, "Still though, fuck off."

"Love you too Jack," and the former-commander continued onward to her house.

A few more minutes down the path Shepard came to her home that was luxurious though not extravagant. She could easily afford a mansion the size of a small county, but instead the three spouses decided on a mere four bedroom, three and half baths residence with its own private beach. Each had their own bathroom and bedroom while the forth they shared as their marital one. So it wasn't like there was much empty unused space. The underground Liara lair and covert hangar in the nearby grove of trees where they kept the Winnie were DYI, as were the numerous concealed turrets and multitude of surveillance equipment. Really was quite the modest little place. 

Shepard crossed the deck to the backdoor, which led to the open kitchen that connected seamlessly with living rooms to either side. She turned right into the den, its raised ceiling and two story high windows drowned the area with sunlight. Nothing on the thief's preferred crashing couch. She doubled back past the fridge to check the other side and again saw no trace of her most annoying friend, well except Conrad and maybe Joker. Come to think of it, there were a lot of names she could list off. How many would label her their most annoying friend, besides Liara and Samantha of course? Hopefully it was more than just those two. She searched the entire first floor including the bathroom for any signs of vandalism or pranking. Samara was upstairs and Kasumi wasn't dumb enough to go anywhere near the matriarch given the current state of things. So it had to be the basement, assuming the cat burglar wasn't following her around at that very moment.

As she reached the bottom step Shepard heard a tap and thinking she had gotten lucky she burst around the corner shouting, "Found you, you little rat!"

"Ah! What!?" Garrus exclaimed and dropped his can of ale; he had heard the footsteps on the stairs and knew someone was coming, he didn't however expect that someone to jump out and yell at him.

"Sorry, thought you were Kasumi."

"I see your mistake," the Shadow Broker operative bent down to check how much of his beverage was salvageable, couldn't give two shits about the carpet underneath it though. "We get confused for each other all the time. Like that time on Omega when we attacked the Blue Suns' base and that batarian mercenary yelled, 'shoot the ugly turian' and the other one asked, 'which one's the ugly one?' She was so hurt when the guy point at her."

"Well you're just too damn pretty," Shepard commented before asking, "Why are you just standing out here in the hall?"

"Never visited your house before." His eyes wandered back into the room he was in front of. "Wasn't sure it'd be okay to go in."

With a warm smile she said, "It's okay. You can go in."

In the crescent-shaped room all along the single curved wall were a series of plaques, alters and memorials to lost friends and loved ones. No one should know so much sorrow as to fill an entire room with it. Each of the deceased had their own podium, with those for departed family members in the most prominent place directly opposite the door; a keepsake placed on top, a picture behind, and their names and a few touching words inscribed on the base. Garrus had bore witness to more than one of their deaths. He was there when Benezia was killed by Shepard, when Legion gave up everything for the good of its people and was on Virmire when Kaidan sacrificed himself. He couldn't read what was written in memoriam to any of them as he couldn't read asari or human, but he recognized the modified N7 chest plate, back-up Alliance issued helmet and had heard from Liara the significance of the broach with little, yellow wings. Samara's daughters and Shepard's family he had never had the chance to meet, but had been told plenty about. Sadly there were plenty of others that he'd known and could feel the sting of their absence. 

Second only to family members was the placement of Admiral Anderson's picture and medals. Mordin Solus, a simple datapad beneath his picture with a host of records that Shepard listened to at least once a year. A small, drell bible was placed on Thane Krios's podium, he would have wanted to been remembered for his peaceful end rather than his violent life. And though not a friend, Javik and his Prothean Echo Shard were also represented, because he deserved better than just a mention in the history books. General Kirrahe, who died of old age not too long ago, had a fairly nondescript Scorpion pistol on his alter, but that wasn't his real keepsake; it was the unusually long inscription bellow it that transcribed his speech on Virmire that was truly meant to memorialize the man. Even every crewmember lost on the Normandy, including Ensign Jenkins had a plaque dedicated to them hanging on the wall.

Garrus mentioned as he scanned through the faces, "We have a lot of dead friends, don't we?"

"We have plenty of living ones too," Shepard replied, wearing a melancholy smile.

His scan stopped when he saw, "Udina?"

"He was trying to do what he thought was right, in the best way he knew how. Don't get me wrong, he deserved to die for his crimes, but he committed them in order to save lives. I'm not much better, not after what I did to the Bahak system."

"That was different though."

"It was, but not by enough for me to be a complete hero and him a complete villain."

Changing subjects slightly, Garrus commented, "Well, this sure is a depressing room you have here Shepard."

"Samara and Liara would disagree with you. Something about celebrating what time you have with a person rather than how brief it is. I don't know, it's some asari philosophy thing that's like the lifespan talk and it's super depressing, so I only half pay attention to it."

"Don't you think you owe it to them to pay full attention though?"

"Nope, for two reason; one I'm not entirely sure how long I'll live and have a good chance of outliving them both, which is a shitty thought I wish not to dwell on and two if I do go first then I don't need to worry about it, because I'll be dead. Honestly hoping for things to end in divorce, probably the least painful way to go, but that's all centuries away. So, fuck it."

Literally out of nowhere Kasumi suddenly de-cloaked between the two to say, "I have a question."

Both hardened warriors screamed like little children and nearly fell over in shock, Shepard being the first to bounce back to yell, "What the hell?!"

"What?" the thief asked calmly.

"How long have you been following me?"

"Since you questioned Jack's choice of swimwear."

"And you choose now to show yourself? When Garrus and I are having a serious talk about friends and death and the combination of the two?"

"You said, 'fuck it'. In my experience once someone says, 'fuck it' the serious part of the conversation is over, Shep."

"Did you have to scare us shitless like that?"

"You called me a little rat."

"What about me?" Garrus finally spoke up, having used every ounce of strength not to spill his ale again. "Why'd you have to scare me too?!"

"I didn't have to, I suppose. I just find the noises turians make when they scream funny."

Clutching his chest, he exaggerated, "That's twice in like ten minutes. Don't know if my heart can take it."

"Pfft, you're not that old, despite all those dumb jokes you make."

Pinching the bridge of her nose Shepard asked, "What is your question? And you better not have screwed around with any of my stuff."

"All I did was steal one sock. And my question is; what is that room for?" Kasumi pointed to the door across the hall.

"One sock," the homeowner muttered under her breath before answering, "My trophy room."

"But there's nothing in there." 

Shepard said as she started out of the room, "Maybe, to a materialistic thief."

"I take none of that statement as an insult."

The former-commander shook her head all the way across the hallway and into what resembled an art gallery on the other side. Mirroring the crescent-shaped, white wall from the room they had just left and with hardwood floors underfoot that Garrus's turian sandals were doing a good job of scuffing it looked like a studio one would find in the ritzier parts of every major city. The kind Kasumi would visit afterhours. There weren't any noticeable control panels, the overhead lights automatically turned on when they entered. The two visitors were stumped as to how someone like Shepard could not have a single trophy or commendation and it wasn't humility. One doesn't set a place aside like that if they don't want to crow about something.

After a minute of standing in the emptiness the two longtime comrades turned to their off-again-on-again superior, which was on again since they all worked for the Shadow Broker; Shepard being second only to Liara in rank. The seasoned soldier ran military operations while the talented scientist ran basically everything else. Samara was all but retired from such things, though still served as liaison to the Justicars who had joined the organization. She was still a former-commander, having decided it best to move on from being Commander Shepard. It was time for her to be her true self, thus why she waited until her friends were visibly annoyed by the lack of anything happening to actually cause something to happen. Her true self was quite irritating; a pretty, little maiden unwittingly helped her realize that much to the chagrin of everyone else around her.

On the lip of the doorframe was a practically invisible button that one had to know was there in order to find. When pressed the bulbs in the ceiling dimmed and the crescent wall lit up with the glow of thousands of tiny, projected screens. There were static images and looping videos, some stayed anchored to a single spot while others wandered, and after awhile each would fade out to give another time to shine only to pop up again somewhere else. The collage of pictures was like the night sky, but instead of stars and galaxies the field was filled with faces. After looking for more than a few seconds a commonality became apparent, that every single shot had a new born baby as its focus, though plenty included parents, family and friends. Every known sapient species was well represented including krogans, quarians, batarians and vorcha. 

"What is all this?" Garrus asked in awe.

With outstretched arms the great soldier replied, "The Shepards."

"What?"

"Every single one of these kids has the same name, Shepard. Their parents sent many of these to me, but I also had Liara do some poking around."

"Excellent use of the Shadow Broker's resources."

The collection's owner heard her turian friend's sarcasm, but ignored it to sincerely respond, "Yes, it was."

Kasumi scanned the overwhelming adorableness a few moments before commenting, "You're getting soft, Shep."

"Careful, last time someone called me soft an armada of giant, murder bots from space attacked the galaxy. Not saying those two things were connected, though I'm also not, not saying those two things were connected."

"Great Kasumi, you've doomed us all!" Garrus's sarcasm remained strong as he literally threw up his hands. "Now I need to go get another ale, because I'm not facing another armada of giant, murder bots from space sober."

As he started for the door Shepard mentioned, "It isn't a foregone conclusion, though if Kasumi took it back the chances might improve."

"Sorry, I can't risk it. I'm getting another drink."

The former-commander called after her turian friend, "There's some in the fridge. Oh, and if you're heading down to the beach could you bring Aethyta a beer. Green cans, bottom shelf."

From halfway down the hall he hollered back, "Yeah sure." 

Shepard then asked the thief beside her, "Just how drunk is he?"

"My guess would be fairly. I mean it isn't like he drinks that often so his tolerance can't be that great." 

"Excellent," the former-marine barely resisted the temptation to wring her hands evilly.

"Why is that excellent?"

"It's nothing, never mind. So, want to look at some baby pictures?"

"Ugh."

"What?"

"I mean." Coincidently Kasumi remembered, "Oh! The reason I'm here."

"Besides sock stealing?"

"Actually this came up while I was sock stealing. I was in the hall when Samara suddenly called me in. I was cloaked at the time, so it kind of freaked me out."

"Her awesomeness will do that to people sometimes."

"Yeah, anyway she needs you for something, so you should probably go see what that is."

"Okay." Shepard then pointed a finger directly at Kasumi and stated, "Now no more snooping, go down to the beach and don't be invisible."

"How is that fun?"

"I'm sure you'll figure something out. Oh, and wear normal beach going attire."

"But that'll expose me to the sun. I burst into flames in direct sunlight."

"Tough, use sunblock." Shepard started out the door, but realized an ultimatum was probably necessary, so added, "Or I'll stop looking the other way when you steal shit on missions."

"There only knickknacks."

"That salarian vase was worth over a million credits."

"Well that salarian was a pirate."

"Which is why I looked the other way. Don't make me stop doing that."

"You'd really do that over this?"

"You heard my conversation with Jack."

"This has nothing to do with Rila."

"Nana Shepard is all sorts of crazy."

With an eye roll Kasumi conceded, "Fine. I'm keeping your sock though."

It was the former-commander's turn to roll her eyes as she left the thief in her objectively worthless trophy room. Back up through the house she went, passing Garrus in the kitchen grabbing drinks out of the fridge along the way. At the top of the stairs she saw the door at the end of the hall wide-open, flooding the corridor in afternoon sunlight. Inside the room she found her elder love rocking gently in a plush recliner, facing the window while cradling a small mass wrapped in a blanket. Samara didn't say a word as she approached; when she got close enough the matriarch simply held the slightly wriggling bundle up. Shepard immediately stepped forward to take the item then offered an arm to help her wife gingerly get out of the chair. After a bit of a struggle the asari was standing and the human was able to redirect her focus to the little, blue face peeking out from off-white linen. It was difficult to enjoy the moment with her daughter while listening to the pained grunts of the girl's other father, the joining that impregnated Liara involved all three of them so really all three of them were the parents.

Shepard lifted her eyes to watch the once mighty Justicar shamble awkwardly across the floor, then a gurgle from below drew her attention right back and she began bouncing the baby while blabbering, "Oh Benny, Benny, Benny. How's my girl? How's my big girl?"

Though she wasn't expecting one her question was answered from the walk-in closet across the room, "She is ready to go down to the beach. Fed, burped and changed."

The topic needed no follow up so she mentioned, "The girls are here."

"Yes, I know. Falere called from the taxi."

After hearing a few more labored groans Shepard asked, "Do you need any help?"

"No, I will be fine, thank you."

"Kasumi said you wanted me for something."

"I could use help carrying the baby's things to the beach."

After a few minutes too many Samara emerged from the closet in a one-piece purple swimsuit with matching sarong and the woman handed their daughter back while commenting, "You know Rila's going to be annoyed with you?"

"I will be able to play with her in the water just fine." The matriarch then did a little needling, "Besides, Grunt is here and it is tough to pry her away from her giant buddy."

"I'm way cooler than Grunt," Shepard mumbled under her breath before telling her wife, "This could have been avoided."

"I do not see how."

The human's vision narrowed on the cast encasing the matriarch's lower leg as she slung a bag over her shoulder, "You could've not taken the surfing lessons. I told you it was harder than it looks."

After a moment's contemplation Samara stated, "I have many regrets in my life; this is not one of them."

"Could at least use the crutch, like the doctor told you to."

"I have experienced worse pain."

"I'm sure you have, but that doesn't seem to be stopping you from hobbling around. It'll take you an hour to get to the beach at this pace." Shepard then surged forward to snatch away the baby and added, "Here, I'll carry everything. You just worry about yourself."

With a bemused grin Samara surrendered, "If you insist."

"I do, now where is it?"

"It is most likely somewhere on the back porch."

The younger woman stuck out her elbow, offering it to her aggravating love, "Then I'll be your crutch until we get the metal one."

Already linking arms with her wife the matriarch asked, "Are you sure you can manage all this weight?"

"I'm sure I'll be fine." After a few steps Shepard thought out loud, "You're going to be a real pain in the ass to take care of when you're pregnant, aren't you?"

Chuckling, "My previous bondmate had absolutely no desire to ever mother a child. After our first daughter was born she had a change of heart and offered to be the mother of our second. By the third she was practically begging to be the one who got pregnant."

"Why didn't you let her?"

"I had several reasons at the time, but looking back it was most likely just stubbornness on my part."

"But you've grown wiser, right? You're not so stubborn anymore, right?"

"I suppose we will have to wait and see."

Shepard did not like the smile on the matriarch's lips at all but leaned over to give them a peck anyway, then dipped her head down to give little Benezia one as well. They picked the crutch up along the way to the beach, though Samara still didn't use it, choosing to hang on to the strong arm of the former-marine. It wasn't so long ago neither would have thought they'd ever be in such a place with a spouse and a baby in their lives. For the asari it was an impossibility, a dream abandoned centuries ago. For the human it wasn't even a consideration, it was the life others dreamed for. After all, this path began because she was running away after the Alliance brass attempted to doom her to a similar fate of a peaceful life on some beach somewhere. She never would have guessed how nice sand between the toes could feel. Then again, the Alliance probably wouldn't have let her organize and occasionally participate in vigilante-type, covert operations all across the galaxy. Without that life would kind of suck, but as it was nothing about her life sucked. She kind of missed the collar sometimes though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End


End file.
